


A Life's Worth?

by alaswoeisme



Category: RWBY
Genre: Addiction, Ambiguous Relationship, Depression, Drinking Problem, Existential Crisis, Existentialism, Implied Feelings, M/M, Substance Abuse, curse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 02:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alaswoeisme/pseuds/alaswoeisme
Summary: The work explores Qrow’s deep depression and undervaluing of his own life.





	1. A man who has nothing to lose has nothing to fear...

Professor Ozpin was at his desk, writing a report for the council, when he heard something crash against his window. Any other person would have jumped at the sudden and loud noise but this individual, or, rather, collection of individuals, was too poised to react in any visible way. But when he looked at the glass the noise had come from, he bolted upright with less than his usual grace and hurried to open the window. A ruffled corvid was smashing its whole body against the pane and it only stopped when the window was opened.

The bird flew in, rolled onto the floor and assumed a still uneven position with one wing slightly spread out and off its feet. The man knelt next to the poor creature, noticing the caked blood on some of the feathers, and reached to hold it, but just then the black bird transformed, amidst a flurry of feathers and colourful smoke, into a younger man whose condition looked even worse now. The dried up blood in his hair was less striking than the large gash across his neck and his left eye, which was entirely red. Not just the iris but the entire eyeball. Blood and wounds notwithstanding, he quickly reached into his pocket and took out his scroll. Handing the device to the professor, he managed:

‘Here. Everything’s on here. All the information. There’s no lock code.’

Qrow then closed his eyes and his hand dropped by his side. Oblivion engulfed him.

Next he awoke in a hospital bed, was greeted by the typical hospital smell and bright light from the window whose curtain was drawn, felt a dull throb in his torso and noticed he was alone. He untensed.

Qrow proceeded to assess the damage. He was hooked to an IV, his torso was bandaged, his left eye was bleary, his neck also had a dressing and the pain was getting stronger. Obviously in no condition to discharge himself from the hospital, he pushed the button to summon the nurse.

A small faunus female arrived almost immediately, smiling warmly and carrying a tray which she placed onto the bedside table.

‘Just in time for breakfast,’ she cooed.

Eying the girl overtly, admiring her slender stature and tiny antlers, Qrow returned raspily:

‘I can get comfortable here, yeah. But, listen, sweetheart, I really need something for the pain, it’s getting really bad.’

‘But you’re already on painkillers, Mr Branwen.’

‘Qrow. And I’m an alcoholic. This tonsil surgery stuff ain’t gonna work. I need the big guns.’

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ the nurse said and left quickly.

The huntsman looked into the tray and discovered breakfast comprised of pancakes with some kind of yoghurt topping, judging by the sour smell. Everything seemed to smell very vividly…

Just then the lovely nurse returned with the doctor, a middle-aged faunus male with stripes across his face. Both looked concerned.

‘Glad to see you awake, Mr Branwen,’ the doctor began, ‘I’m doctor Strike.’

‘Qrow,’ the patient insisted.

‘Frankly, we weren’t sure you would recover. You’ve suffered severe head injuries among other serious ones. It may take a while for you to fully feel yourself again.’

‘Yeah, I feel fine, aside from the pain,’ the patient was getting impatient.

‘About that,’ his doctor pleaded, ‘I’m afraid we can’t up the dosage because that would damage your internal organs and we can’t put you on anything that suppresses the central nervous system on account of the head injury.’

‘Listen, I’ll be fine. My liver’s had worse and my head’s okay,’ the huntsman explained with his bargaining tone, ‘So just do either one. Where do I sign?’

Doctor Strike sighed and left, only to return within a few seconds with a syringe. He added its contents to the IV.

‘This will probably make you disoriented. The most common sensations are light-headedness, mania, hallucinations and panic but don’t be surprised if you experience some that can’t even be named. However, if you go into a seizure or experience more physical side-effects than sensory ones, immediately notify one of my staff. This drug is risky for someone with head trauma but we can’t ignore the intervention into your internal organs. I mean I know what operation we had to perform and I wouldn’t give this to a patient unless I was sure the need was urgent.’

‘Yeah. It hurts like hell. Trust me.’

‘I do,’ the doctor smiled and concluded, ‘Just make sure to eat and drink lots of water. If your aura handles this well, you can be on your feet in a few days. Until then, nurse Fallow will take care of you.’

‘I hope so,’ Qrow responded ambiguously and grinned. Mostly because he was starting to feel some relief.

The two medics wished him a speedy recovery, handed him his scroll and left him to rest. Qrow’s first task was to see if Ozpin had feedback. As it turned out, the message from him did not contain any information about the information that had been recovered and delivered, but rather a request: “Please, message me when you come to.” There were similar messages from Ruby and Tai. Yang’s message had come days after the others and read “Don’t you dare die, old man. Text me when you wake up. We’re all worried.”

Qrow stopped to think about all this. How serious were his injuries after all? Life-threatening, yes. He had known that even as he had exposed himself to the damage. But why was everyone making a commotion? A huntsman’s life was always at risk, after all. Then next question that popped into his mind was how long he had been out. Looking at the current date and the last activity he remembered, he calculated he had been unconscious for ten days. Not a record but still surprising. Then he messaged Ozpin. Next – his nieces and Tai. He assured them he was fine but despite that Ruby called and started freaking out about his eye, neck, what not.

‘Hey, a huntress needs to be prepared for this stuff, kiddo. Me or you, your sister, dad, friends… We’re all in danger all the time.’

Luckily, Ruby was one of those kids that could be calmed down with brutal logic just as successfully as with sappy assurances. And her uncle couldn’t do the latter or at least never did. Usually.

After the call, Qrow realised he had nothing to do and was immediately bored. As a man who spent the majority of his waking life in constant stress and danger, lying in a hospital bed made him quite anxious. He looked round the scantily furbished room, mostly white, noticed how big it was and how the white colour and open window made it even vaster and emptier. He wondered if this was the VIP ward.

Not long after, in less than an hour after the message had been sent to him, Ozpin appeared at the door with a bag of fruit. Qrow smiled at the sight. For a split second he felt happy. He really felt like eating fruit and not pancakes. The professor returned the smile but the man in the bed was quick to clarify.

‘I’m glad you’ve brought me fruit. That’s what I’m so happy about. I really don’t want pancakes right now.’

Still smiling fondly, Ozpin sat on the vacant chair and placed the fruit next to the tray.

‘Good morning, Qrow. How are you feeling?’

‘Now that the pain is under control, not too bad,’ the patient replied hastily,’ Hey, do you think it’s safe to talk here?’

‘Yes,’ was the definitive response, ‘I would trust these people with my life.’

‘Great. So? Did you get what you needed? I see you’ve returned my scroll?’

‘Right to the point. Well, since you are so adamant on discussing work first, let me tell you that you could not even begin to understand how vital the information you recovered is. In fact, I never expected you… anyone to be able to record so much.’

‘Come on, Oz. You know I’m the best at this stuff.’

‘Yes and you continue to surprise me despite my vast experience.’

‘Like my ego needs any more flattery.’

‘In reality, Qrow, there is something I am definitely not happy about. Something I wanted to discuss with you after your full recovery but in consideration of your character, it would be best to bring it to your attention now.’

‘Lemme guess,’ the younger man half-closed his eyes in annoyance, ‘I shouldn’t have come to you like that. I should have contacted you. Well, guess what! I wasn’t sure I would make it. And from what I’ve heard, I was right to think so. The doctor told me he wasn’t even sure I would wake up!’

The professor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Qrow shut up. He didn’t think he had seen Ozpin do this. Not recently at least.

‘Qrow. Must I scold you as though you were still a student? Why give an aggressive answer to a question that wasn’t even asked yet? Precisely this is the sort of behaviour I take issue with. You made the right call to bring me the intel immediately but despite your good judgement in the general case, you have a recklessness in your actions that we need to discuss. How you obtained this information is the first thing I want to ask you.’

‘Does it matter?’ Qrow scoffed, ‘I got it, that’s what counts.’

‘But at what cost? You could have been killed!’ Ozpin raised his voice just enough to make an impression.

‘What? Killed? That’s the risk we all take. All the time. What are you scolding me for exactly? Do you want me to magically get the information you send me for without any risk?!’

‘Qrow. There’s always risk but marching headlong into situations that are extremely likely to get you killed is not wise.’

‘Oz. Again I ask. How else was I supposed to get the stuff?’

‘You weren’t. Not under these circumstances,’ Ozpin said sternly but then added softly, ‘Your life is worth more than this intelligence you’ve gathered.’

The younger man blinked confusedly but quickly thought of a come-back:

‘Come on, Oz. We both know that’s not true. The good of the many and all that shit.’

‘While indeed what you uncovered can potentially save many, never forget that you are the one who can save even more. In addition, are you so inclined to squander the gift I have bestowed upon you? A gift that has a very finite source, let me remind you.’

Weighing the arguments against his own counterarguments, Qrow dropped his chin to his chest in defeat. His boss was right. He needed to be careful.

‘Yet this is not what I want to… scold you about.’

‘There’s more?’ Qrow asked ironically.

The professor rose from his chair and walked up to his comrade. Placing a hand on Qrow’s shoulder, Ozpin implored:

‘Please don’t undervalue your own existence so easily, my friend. Gift aside, usefulness notwithstanding, your life has intrinsic value, especially to those close to you, myself included. If you were to be killed, we would all mourn. Your friend Taiyang, your young nieces, Glynda… We would all tear at our hair and curse your recklessness, Qrow. Remember that. I know you see yourself as utterly alone and in a certain way, you are indeed. But you have friends still. And family. This darkness that you carry makes it easy for you to devalue your very existence and focus on the greater good. You have little to lose from your point of view and a man with nothing to lose has nothing to fear. But the ones you care for do not suffer from this deep depression and certainly have an uncle, colleague and friend to lose in your person.’

The older man gave his friend’s shoulder a squeeze and then sat back on his chair, breaking all physical contact.

‘One more thing,’ the professor spoke after a brief silence, business-like and insistent, ‘I do need to know exactly what happened. Since you were seen, this automatically changes the way we can use the intel you recovered.’

‘Yeah, here’s the thing,’ Qrow was quick to give an answer in his business-like tone which was nothing like business-like but his own hurried explanatory lilt, ‘They saw me but they don’t know that I got it. I mean, I was in the vault and the labs, took pictures of everything but when I was making my way out, I was pinned between two groups of guards and couldn’t do anything to get away so I thought of this idea before they saw me: I pretended to be heading towards the vault so they caught me just outside. While we were fighting I tried to get back into the vault so I’m pretty sure they think they got me just before I had gotten inside. So you see, they may have beaten me up, but they sure as hell don’t know what I took pictures of.’

‘Stabbed, really,’ the listener corrected.

‘Yeah. Fractured skull, broken ribs, punctured lungs… the works. But I’ve been through worse. And I regret nothing,’ Qrow said like a child, looking in Ozpin’s eyes defiantly, ‘I did a good job.’

‘True.’

Ozpin smiled finally and his colleague was quick to follow. Then they both chuckled.

‘You should have seen me, Oz. I was like, “stop gnawing on my torso, I wanna get into the vault” and they were like “stab, stab” hahaha.’  
Qrow sighed, still smiling.

‘I should eat something,’ he deduced, ‘doc said I should definitely eat, otherwise the meds might kill me or some shit like that…”

And then Qrow was peeling tangerines and Ozpin was going through his scroll. But then, out of the blue, he spoke very quietly:

‘You don’t regret it, but I do.’

The younger man didn’t answer for a few seconds, thinking. He was still chewing his food when he took a breath to return:

‘Yap, yap, yap. I did a great job and you’re guilt tripping me here. I agreed to be more careful but you’re still going on about this… What do you want? I can’t change the way I think… I can’t change the fact that I’m a cursed piece of shit and THE ONLY WAY MY LIFE HAS ANY VALUE IS IF I RISK IT!’

Qrow winced. Fiery pain shot through his torso after the strain he had put on his lungs, so he relaxed back and began breathing heavily.

The professor did not even look at his companion. He simply put his scroll away and then walked up to the bed again. The two looked into each other’s eyes then. Qrow’s were full of anger but Ozpin’s expression was unreadable when he said, quite calmly:

‘This is what I have a problem with. You are convinced of this untruth and … if you pulled your head out of your ass and stopped thinking no one could ever love you on account of your curse, you would see that they do, in fact.’

The man in the bed just thought about what had been said. His boss had made some really good points today… but mostly Qrow couldn’t wrap his head around how out of place the word “ass” had been amidst a context of formal verbiage…

But then the other continued:

‘Forgive my language but I fear you fail to comprehend…’

‘Yeah.’

‘The fact is, Qrow, that you needn’t be so melancholy. You perceive yourself as a victim: in your childhood, because of your semblance, of circumstances and your own limitations, but you are right only about the past. You can change everything else. You cannot change your semblance but you can change how it affects you. You can change your attitude. You could… So don’t say that you cannot change the way you think. I want you to. And everyone else does too,’ Ozpin sighed and went on even more quietly, ‘because it is our choices that define us the most. Your aura, soul and semblance are already defined but you can still have power over your own life. They are strong factors, already determined, but they don’t determine your future. Let me make a comparison between you and your twin. She has the exact opposite of your semblance. Hers keeps the ones she loves close and yours keeps them away… Yet she is the one who deserted everyone and you are the twin who risks life and limb for his loved ones. Your choices determine your life, your semblance does not.’

Qrow had stopped eating. He was holding a piece of fruit in one hand and a pip between the fingers of the other. His gaze had softened. He was thinking about what had been said, staring into the blankets.

‘Give yourself more credit. You deserve it. And you mean a lot to us.’

With that the older man headed to the door.

‘Wait,’ Qrow instructed hurriedly but then hesitated, ‘…thank you.’

His friend smiled and left.


	2. A Party for the Cursed

‘Alright, but just one drink.’

Qrow filled the entire glass.

‘Qrow, this is enough to kill a teenager.’

The younger man laughed loudly.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard you make a joke, Oz. And you haven’t even started drinking yet. There’s hope for you yet.’

‘That was more of a critique than an attempt at humour,’ the professor returned evenly.

So they drank and talked about the grand mission and events past and Qrow laughed drunkenly and Ozpin chuckled.

‘You know, we should do this more often,’ the younger man said expectantly.

‘I agree. When time permits.’

Ozpin would never admit it but this evening had made him feel almost normal. Sharing a drink with a colleague, talking but not scheming… He desperately wanted to have more of this in his life, more of something, anything in his life. Anything other than the constant stoicism and planning. But that ship had sunk long ago.

Now he and Qrow were celebrating a small victory against the White Fang. Qrow had learnt, through a very attractive ex-member*, about a weak spot in the security at the base of a very violent faction. So, exploiting the weakness, the military had swooped in and taken away most terrorists in mere seconds. There had been minimal casualties and maximal results.

So the two seasoned huntsmen had decided to congratulate themselves and each other by holding a one-on-one meeting. In reality, Qrow had felt happy after the good news – a very rare feeling for him – and had decided to share his happiness and booze with his boss, who, on the other hand, was secretly so lonely that he had bothered to offer no excuse to reject the other.

So the two drank and laughed and while Qrow had coped with copious amount as expected, Ozpin had only had a couple of glasses when he said:

‘I don’t see you like this very often. You look happy. That makes me happy.’

The younger huntsman was a little surprised by the cordial remark and so he had no idea how to respond. When he received kind words from family or village people after completing a mission, he brushed them off, when he received kind words from strangers, it was usually followed by the dropping of trousers and/or skirts… Receiving kind words from comrades was extremely rare and had caught him off guard.

As if in answer to his silent analysis, the older man returned:

‘Forgive me if my honesty has made you uncomfortable. I am not sure if I am able to filter my words very well at this point.’

‘Can’t wait to hear what happens when we hit the next bottle.’

‘I am quite sure I have had enough.’

‘Aw, come on, Oz. Night’s still young. You gonna watch me drink for the next hour?’

‘Better than drinking myself,’ Ozpin smiled victoriously.

‘Suit yourself,’ Qrow shrugged, ‘But this next bottle’s priceless.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re going to drink another kind of alcohol now…?’

‘Sorry, mum, if I get tired of the same shit after a gallon or two,’ Qrow laughed with an intoxicated glint in his eye, ‘and no, you don’t make me uncomfortable. I’ve had too much to drink to feel uncomfortable. I was just surprised that you actually take the time to think about this… To observe me and to notice if I’m happy or not.’

‘I do,’ Ozpin replied apprehensively, ‘and you still undervalue your very existence.’

‘We’re NOT having that conversation again, Oz.’

‘I agree.’

But despite the agreement between them, there was silence now.

‘Qrow, I am not blaming you. I understand the burden you bear. I too have to keep my distance from everyone but just remember there are nights like this, when you can laugh with a friend and not despair, for a change.’

‘There are those, yes. But your curse doesn’t involve immediate danger for the ones in your very presence! I can’t even stay in bed with a prostitute afterwards. I count the seconds I spend with Tai and the girls, I’m anxious all the time… Under constant stress because of my semblance. The only times I can sleep without this pressure is when I’m out in the wild and then I can’t relax because I need to look out for the Grimm. I’m incapable of feeling relaxed!’

‘You needn’t be. Those that care for you will accept your semblance.’

‘Yeah, but why should they have to suffer because of my cursed ass?’

‘It’s their choice. And aren’t you relaxed now?’

‘I was. Until you brought shit up again. Besides. You know what my semblance is, so yeah. I did feel kinda happy. But now that I was reminded all these moments are virtually non-existent… I’m not blaming you either though. You’ve always been good to me, Oz. I just wish I could be around my family like this.’

‘You could. And I understand. The only other time I see you happy is when you’re talking about your nieces.’

‘Yeah, they make me so proud. They’re both gonna be students at your school and then you’ll be proud too.’

Both men smiled fondly, thinking about the children in their lives. Although Qrow had had and would have none, Ozpin had had four daughters as Ozma and many other children through his lifetimes but none with the knowledge of what he was – the only children he had raised had been the ones already born to his hosts… But he could never explain this to his friend. If he told him about all those mistakes so many millennia ago, Qrow would definitely leave and join his sister.

‘Hey,’ Qrow pressed, ‘you OK?’

‘Of course.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Just wait until my Blake/Qrow fic gets ready…


End file.
